Slughorn was not particularly enthusiastic about Quidditch. Surrounded by die-hard Quidditch fans, even with his considerable social skills, he found it difficult to fit in.
After all, he could not even recognize all the teams' emblems and mascots. Forcing his way into their conversations would only make a fool of himself.
But clearly, after watching the closing speech on the final day of the tournament, Slughorn was glad that he had been there to witness that legendary moment.
Classes were about to begin, and Slughorn hurried off before he had time to say much more to Manus.
He did not like the dark, damp environment of the dungeons. It made him feel cramped, and it was no place for the Mead and candied pineapple he enjoyed. Those things ought to be savored with sunshine and a gentle breeze.
Thus, Slughorn's office was not in the dungeons, though the price of that choice was that he had to spend a little extra time getting to class each time.
Following Slughorn's instructions, Manus used an ink bottle to weigh down the application form on his desk, then left. Before long, he ran into Minerva, who had just gone out to deliver a letter.
Why had he called her over again?
Minerva was somewhat puzzled. Hadn't she always been free to go wherever she wanted after finishing her work?
"Things are a little different today. Come with me."
Manus tucked Minerva against his chest. Given the size difference between him and the Little Owl, the sight was surprisingly natural.
"Here's the situation..."
Manus briefly explained things as they walked. There was no need to hide the simple explanation; a student's owl having an accident was not something that needed to be kept secret. At most, discussing the matter with an owl might seem